


Mixing Spirits

by sapphocles (freckles42)



Category: Earth's Children - Jean M. Auel
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1566500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckles42/pseuds/sapphocles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jondalar and Ranec want a child of their very own. What to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixing Spirits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reallycorking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reallycorking/gifts).



> This is thanks to a great conversation between myself and lj user reallycorking, and basically her fault. We both agree that the Earth’s Children series needs more crack (hell, it needs more fic, period). And who better to facilitate a male pregnancy in pre-historic times than Ayla, the Ultimate Mary Sue? And so she invents lube and in vitro fertilization. You don’t need to know much about the series to read it; just know that the Zelandonii are a tribe. And yes, the language is deliberately ridiculous

Ranec rolled over in the cool spring air and pressed his body up against the svelte beauty beside him. How he had been so blessed by Mut, the Great Mother, was beyond him. He had never known such completeness with another person. He reached out and stroked his fingers through his mate’s blond hair, and the figure beside him stirred.

“Mm, Ranec,” Jondalar protested, turning towards the darker man, eyes still closed but a smile forming on his lips. “It is not yet light.”

“I know,” Ranec replied, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips. “That’s why I woke you. I need you.”

Jondalar chuckled. “Need, or _Need_?” he asked, eyes opening just slightly. “I know that look.” 

Ranec’s hand slid down beneath the furs, skirting along the planes and angles of Jondalar’s stomach. Leaning in, he pressed one kiss, then a second, to his jugular, murmuring as his fingers found their mark. He slid his hand along the Zelandonii’s hardness, squeezing, eliciting a gasp from the flint-worker. 

“After two years, I would hope so,” he replied, fingers slipping up over the head of Jondalar’s manhood. “I’ve got your heart.”

Jondalar grew hard in his hand and kissed Ranec back. “And something else, I think,” he murmured, then let out a groan, growing stiffer. “The poultice,” Jondalar grunted out. “I need it… I need you.”

Ranec nodded and reached for the small clay pot they kept beside their hearth. It was a combination of fats, oils, and herbs that Ayla had created for them, to aid with their joining. The first dozen encounters had been painful and had not eased with practice, but one day Ayla had shown up with the salve and offered it to them. They had gone through each little pot fairly quickly, but Ayla would simply resupply them. In return, she’d found her hearth decorated heavily with totems to Mut, as well as plenty of cuts of meat and skins from hunts. It was a good relationship they all had, and Ayla seemed to bear them no ill will.

Ranec’s fingers found their destination and he coated Jondalar inside and out. He let out a growl when Ranec hit that Spot inside him. The darker man moved between his lover’s legs and pushed them up, exposing his opening to him.

“So delicious,” Ranec murmured, watching the glistening mixture oozing around Jondalar’s Place. He lined his manhood up and pressed slowly in, still amazed at the tightness of the blond man, even after two years. Jondalar’s depths closed up around him, drawing him in, pulling them together and binding them fully. The Pleasure Ranec felt with his former adversary could not rival that of any woman, not even Ayla. Even though he had placed Ayla upon a pedestal, he put Jondalar on a mountain – a mountain which he could surmount.

Jondalar pulled Ranec in for a passionate kiss, tongue sliding over his lip, biting the exposed flesh there as Ranec continued to move within him. When they had first begun this exploration, they had battled for dominance but the size of Jondalar’s prodigious manhood had limited their practical options. Ranec continued to thrust inside Jondalar, brushing against his Spot with each motion, Jondalar’s manhood bobbing and twitching between them. 

Ranec’s muscles rippled with each pulsing push into Jondalar, feeling the passion of their Pleasure rising between them. Jondalar’s moans rose to meet their mutual gratification as it surged and rushed over them, culminating in a moment of absolute joy.

“Ranec!” Jondalar cried out as Ranec came to completion within him, his own manhood spraying across his stomach. Ranec simply kissed him, his own manhood slowly softening.

“Mm,” he hummed in contentment, resting upon the torso of his mate. Then he felt something soft but solid strike his back. He tried to ignore the steady beats but he could not bear the interruption to his afterglow and turned his head, intending to scold whatever child had decided to disturb him. Instead, his was met by impish eyes set in a high-cheeked face and framed by long, blonde hair.

“Ayla,” he said with a tolerant smile. In response, the medicine woman balled up another projectile – was that lard? – and flung it at him with startling accuracy. Of course, she’d always had good aim, so he really shouldn’t be surprised that she managed to keep striking the same spot on his back.

“You two will wake the whole cave,” Ayla said, tossing another little missile at him. Ranec batted it away.

“Then let them wake, it’s nearly light and time to stir as it is,” Ranec replied, sliding out of Jondalar, who moaned in a rather pathetic way. Ayla arched an eyebrow.

“You two are terrible, even after two years since your Matrimonial,” Ayla observed, rising to her feet from her nearby hearth. Even though he deeply loved the man who shared his bed, Ranec had to admit that Ayla was still a fine specimen of a woman, formed in the Great Mother’s image and made to inspire all. Indeed, her journey was not one that was meant to truly isolate herself to any one man, but rather to share herself amongst them all.

“We strive to please,” Jondalar said from the furs, slowly sitting up. “We actually have a question for you, if you have a moment.”

“Diplomacy from Jondalar of the Zelandonii?” Ayla said in mock surprise. “Ranec, I did not know that _you_ could tame the wild beasts.” She loved to tease them, and she was already stepping over the stones lining the edge of her hearth and crossing to theirs, waiting for their invitation before settling herself down beside them. 

“I can tame any man who will submit himself to me,” Ranec said, prodding the embers of the fire and tossing on some dry grass for fuel. He found hands sliding around his waist possessively. He chuckled, patting Jondalar’s arm. “Though why would I desire any man but my mate?”

“Good recovery,” Jondalar murmured, pressing a kiss to Ranec’s shoulder.

“So, you were saying?” Ayla prodded, reaching up to start braiding her hair in long plaits. She did not mind the affection between them – having known them both in the Rites of Pleasure, she understood their needs better than most – but she knew they would get sidetracked if she did not keep them on their path.

“Oh yes,” Ranec said, seeming to come back to them. “Jondalar and I wish to start a family.” Jondalar, his chin on Ranec’s shoulder, nodded in agreement.

“The Mother has not gifted men with the ability to bear children,” Ayla reminded them. “If the situation arose where you could bring an abandoned child into your Hearth, I suppose it might be possible, but –”

“No,” Jondalar protested. “That is not what we desire. We both wish there to be a child of our mutual spirits. It is just that we do not have a womb that could bear forth a child. We know our spirits are strong and could manage it, if only we had a way to carry a child.”

Ayla frowned. “But a man’s spirit does battle with a woman’s before eventually overcoming her and bearing forth their child. It is not possible for a man’s spirit to overcome another man’s spirit.”

Ranec took her small hands in his own. “This is why we are coming to you. You, Ayla. You are a medicine woman and filled with the knowledge of many Clans and people.” His voice dropped. “You bore forth a child that was a mix of both heritages, though many thought it impossible.”

Ayla’s heart twisted at the mention of her son, Durc.

“If there is anyone who can figure out a way for us to have a child of our mixed spirits, Ayla, it is you,” Jondalar said, seeing the anguish on Ayla’s face. “I know you can do it.”

Ayla looked grave, shoulders set and gaze looking askance. The other hearths were beginning to stir and it would not be long before the day’s hunt would begin. “I will go to the Great Mother and ask for Her guidance,” she said after a long moment. “I will see what can be done.”


End file.
